No, the gifted Doctor Crobe isn't an option. No, the not-secret dungeons of Spiteos aren't suitable either. What Gris has in mind is a widow's house.
We get a little side story as Gris recalls how he met the Widow Tayl - he had interviewed a captured burglar who confessed to a murder, hoping to earn a place in the Apparatus. The widow had paid the burglar to off her husband, a wealthy but invalid man who had added what amounted to a small, private hospital to his mansion for his doctors to keep him alive in. Gris had gotten the burglar's written confession, had the man thrown through the garbage shredder, and with blackmail material in hand visited the widow and gained a contact.
Gris checks in with Mrs. Tayl and explains that he'll need the old hospital suite for a top-secret operation to cure a Lord's son of homosexuality, and she's happy to help. More than happy, really; warty face and sagging bosom notwithstanding, the Widow Tayl is a nymphomaniac. She can't help but show off her late husband's old bed and comment that "You will never find a bed so serviceable!"
Her naked foot was hooked behind my heel as I tried to go backwards.
Tayl's robe hit the floor.
My right boot hit the far wall and fell with a thud.
Actually, as "love" scenes go, this one is handled fairly well. For borderline rape, anyway.
A standing lamp began to reel.
A table of instruments was shaking and every instrument on it clattered.
The lamp crashed on the floor.
I mean, Hubbard's being very understated here, leaving us with little doubt about what's happening but without being explicit. I'd say it's more tastefully handled than the whole "guards eavesdropping on Heller and Krak's moans and grunts" incident.
The double window blew open inward with a terrific blast of wind.
The outer door looked solid. I got to it and put my hand on it to steady myself. I was totally shot.
Flush with success but wryly noting that "You have to be careful who you blackmail," Gris takes his leave and has Ske fly him to a bookstore, where he finds a copy of Cells I Have Known by one Professor Slahb and tears the author's photo out of the back. Then he dons his old scholar disguise, puts on some make-up, and has Ske take him to a hospital district in Slum City, ringed with private practices where "doctors completed ruining the cases the hospital had botched."
Dr. Bittlestiffender's practice is in a back alley up a couple of fire escapes, which Gris views as "natural selection - it was easy to cure anyone who could make it to the office." Man, Hubbard's on a roll with his doctor-bashing wit tonight! Dr. Probablyapenisjoke is actually sleeping under a pile of newspapers in his office, and turns out to be a tall and gangly recent graduate. When Gris introduces himself as Professor Slahb the doctor is besides himself with excitement, especially when Gris starts talking about a high-paying government assignment (the young graduate hasn't eaten in two days).
Gris whips out a contract that he printed with a portable forgery device in his car, offering the doctor a five thousand credit salary for some top-secret surgery implanting objects alongside optic and auditory nerves. He has the doctor write up a list of needed supplies for the surgery, tells him he'll be reporting to one Soltan Gris, and gives him the Widow Tayl's address, where he'll stay until it's time for the operation. As he leaves he asks for an old coat due to the cold, and the doctor is of course happy to oblige.
So now Gris has his surgeon, his operating theater, and a sample of handwriting to forge a suicide note to be found next to the doctor's coat when it's time to tidy up loose ends. All in all a productive day. As he heads back to the car Gris - a trained secret agent, a paranoid and suspicious veteran of the backstabbing Apparatus - thinks he's being observed from behind a pile of garbage.
It was nonsense, of course, that anybody could recognize me. I shrugged it off--just some thief being hopeful.
I'd just like to point out that since the whole attempted murder thing that led to him spending a month in the mountains, Gris has not show any interest in whoever's trying to kill him or why. He hasn't worried about it, started looking for clues, or anything. He just went back to glowering at Heller without a second thought.
And now here he is, discarding concerns that someone's following him, even after that encounter in the head plumber's office. You have to admire the guy's optimism.
Back to Chapter Eight
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